


Your past is your business

by IBlogAboutIt



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Backstory, But probably shouldn't be, Can Be Read As Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Drug Use, Drugs, Sherlock's background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBlogAboutIt/pseuds/IBlogAboutIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And your future is my privilege. Why John never sees Sherlock for his past when everyone else does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your past is your business

**o.O.** 0 **.O.o**

John hated his family. He hated his dad most of all; the fact he never came home unless he was drunk or high played a major part. Well, almost never.

John had seen his real dad, once or twice. Not an angry drunk, not a disconnected or incoherent addict, his real dad. And he was brilliant. He was smart and caring and funny and most importantly he _adored_ Harry and John.

So John had learned to look past the drugs and the drink, and to remember that that wasn’t his dad.

o.O.o

There was a time when John hated Harry as well. She’d just finished school, he was in uni, so she shouldn’t have been his responsibility. But every time he pulled up in front of a new address, every time he saw her pupils blown wide and felt her pulse racing, he reminded himself of his sister Harry. His sister Harry, who had come home and gushed to him about her first girlfriend. His sister Harry, who had cried when her pet rabbit died.

She asked him once, when she was clean, why he’d kept looking after her. She was surprised – and oddly proud - when he said ‘I wasn’t looking after my sister; I was looking after a lost girl in need. My sister is sitting right in front of me.’

o.O.o

Then, of course, there was the army. When leave was granted, everyone either got drunk or high. First night, John would sit in his hotel room, mobile in his lap, waiting for the calls to begin. He’d drown the silence on music, whatever was on the radio.

 _I bet that you look good on the dancefloor_ … He got to the chorus of the first song before his phone started buzzing. Everyone knew John was free first night; everyone, that is, who might need him.

‘John, my man!’ It was Alex. It was always Alex first, such a lightweight and hated to get high with too many people.

‘Alex.’

‘Look, can you come round?’ Of course he could. Alex was high tonight, speech wasn’t slurred but he had that voice when he got high, the one that sounded like he thought he was floating.

‘Where are you?’

‘I think it’s called…I don’t know. It’s the one on Michael Street, with the purple sign.’

‘Ok, I’ll be there soon.’

‘Thanks John.’

He smiled slightly. ‘Three Continents Watson,’ his mates called him. He had a leg over in each, but never first night. Never when he had friends that needed somewhere to crash- to sleep it off or to come down.

o.O.o

All of this meant that Lestrade was surprised when John shrugged. Being told your best friend used to be an addict wasn’t exactly shrugging news, after all.

John saw the surprise on Greg’s face and simply said ‘He’s Sherlock. Nothing will ever change that, and that is always how I’ll see him.’

Anderson too was surprised at John’s reaction to a jibe made about Sherlock’s past.

‘Listen to me carefully cause I’m only saying this once. You have no idea. You have no idea what it’s like to spend months coming down from an endless high. To spend so long in withdrawal you can’t remember what it’s like to _not_ feel bugs crawling under your skin. Sherlock Holmes is the single best man I’ve ever had the fortune of meeting, and his past doesn’t change that – in fact I respect him so much more. Because that was his past, but it’s not who he is now. He’s managed to put that all behind him. So don’t you _ever_ make the mistake of thinking that you’re better than him for something you could only hope to equal.’

John turned on his heel, leaving Anderson stunned in the hallway.

His left hand was perfectly still.

o.O.o

Sherlock had no idea how to react. He’d just informed his (not best friend) flatmate that he’d been an addict for more than a quarter of his life, and John had said ‘I know. Tea?’

Sherlock wondered how John still managed to surprise him.

And more importantly, how he’d ended up with _John Watson_ as his (not best friend) flatmate.

 

F **IN**

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea stewing in my brain for a while, so I just went with it. Apologies for anything I got wrong! Many thanks to my unofficial beta kayley.beer on FFN - it's her fault I'm posting this at all! I'm gonna shamelessly plug her, she writes some hilarious but really awesome stuff :) send her some love :)  
> Thanks for review/comments/kudos/bookmarks (hinthintnudgenudge) :P  
> I'm out!


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